


Moving Pains

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Secret Snarry Swap 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-09 06:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12882555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: Severus may have underestimated just how big a step it is to move in with Harry Potter.





	Moving Pains

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my betas, S and E, to my Britpicker, S, and to the ever patient mods. Happy Snarry Swap, all! ♥
> 
> From 55 from capitu: _Severus is a man of a routine. Enters Harry Potter and throws his careful routine out the window!_

“This is such a big step,” says Minerva. “Are you looking forward to it? And are you sure you’re ready for it?”

Severus sips his tea and considers an appropriate response. _Yes_ seems too simple, but it’s not as if he wants to go into detail about his and Harry’s new living arrangements. Amazing though they are.

Minerva is his friend, though. One of his oldest. Only Narcissa and Lucius could be considered closer, and he’s already told them about the upcoming…change to his living arrangements. Narcissa had actually hugged him. 

Lucius…Well, his ambivalence is understandable, really. Harry is responsible for his current predicament, although his speaking for Narcissa and Draco at their trials did make their lack of Azkaban time possible. 

“Severus?”

Ah yes, he still owes Minerva a reply. 

“I am…cautiously optimistic,” he says. 

Minerva shakes her head. “For you that’s practically effusive.” Laughing, she helps herself to another shortbread. “I’m pleased for you and Harry.” Her smile fades, and she stares into the fire. “If the war has taught me anything, it’s to take happiness wherever possible. I’m glad you’ve decided to give a relationship with Harry a chance.” 

“He gave me little choice,” Severus mutters. 

Minerva raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Severus clears his throat. “Apologies. I didn’t mean to overshare.” 

“ _Overshare_?” Minerva laughs. “Trust me, Severus. No one would ever accuse you of oversharing. And knowing how stubborn Gryffindors can be, I suspect I know what you’re talking about as concerns Harry without you having to explain in much more detail.” Pouring herself more tea, she sits back in her chair. “Although I am curious about one thing.”

“Indeed.” Severus braces himself.

“You’re a creature of routine, and I’m sure Harry has his own habits. Are you ready to handle cohabitation?”

As if he hasn’t been asking himself the same question for a week? Ever since he blurted out, immediately after sex no less, that he and Harry should move in together, he’s been second guessing himself. “As ready as I can be,” he replies. 

Minerva nods. “Well, I’m an available ear should you need it.” 

“Thank you.” Severus reaches for a chocolate digestive. “Now, how is the search for the new Defence professor proceeding?”

* * *

Harry’s waiting in Severus’ living room when Severus gets home. “Hey,” he says, standing up and pressing close to Severus for a kiss. “How was your monthly tea with the Headmistress?” 

The kiss is soft, sweet, at least until Severus hauls Harry closer and moulds their bodies together. Things quickly get heated after that, and they’re both panting when they separate, Harry looking flatteringly flushed and distracted. 

“Tea was enjoyable,” murmurs Severus, tucking a lock of Harry’s hair behind his ear. “How was your luncheon with Weasley and Ms Granger?” 

“Fun. They’re excited for us.” 

Severus raises an eyebrow. “I find that difficult to believe.” 

“Honest to Godric!” Harry grins. “They even offered to help me move my stuff into the cottage once the construction’s done.” 

“Did they?” Severus shakes his head. “They’re certainly…eager.” 

“To have Grimmauld to themselves? Absolutely.” Harry blushed. “I think they’re tired of me walking in on them.” 

Lips pursed, Severus allows Harry to pull him towards the sofa. When Harry settles himself in Severus’ lap, Severus adjusts quickly. “I hope they realise how generous you are,” he says. “Not everyone would gift their friends a house in which to live.” 

Resting his head on Severus’ shoulder, Harry snorts. “I have more houses than I know what to do with, and they need a place to live that’s _not_ with Molly, so why not?” 

“I’m not arguing,” Severus murmurs. “Just making note of your generosity.” 

“Uh huh.” Harry chuckles. “Hey, I gave you your choice of houses, and you picked the cottage. If you’d rather we lived at Grimmauld—”

“No thank you.” Severus shudders. “That place doesn’t have the best memories for me.” 

Harry nods. “Me either. So, we’re sticking with the cottage?” 

“Indubitably.” Severus gestures at the room. “We certainly can’t stay here.” 

“Honestly? I don’t care where we live as long as we’re together.” 

“Well, we’re about to be together a lot,” Severus says. 

“Yeah.” Harry raises his head to smile at Severus. “It’s going to be brilliant!” 

“We shall see,” says Severus. “Now, have you given any thought to what you want for dinner?” 

“Nope.” Harry presses against Severus, dropping kisses along his jawline. “But I know what I want for dessert.” 

“What a coincidence,” murmurs Severus, cupping Harry’s bum. “I believe we both have the same idea.”

* * *

“It’s going to need a lot of cleaning,” Severus says, looking around. 

Harry sighs. “Damn. Yeah, it is. The builders were supposed to clean when they finished the last of the new construction.”

Severus runs his finger over the mantel, lifting it to reveal a thick coat of dust. “If this is their idea of clean, I’d hate to see what they consider dirty,” he says. 

“I’ll fix it.” Reaching into his robes, Harry withdraws a book. 

“What’s that?” Severus walks towards him. 

“Molly gave it to me. She said it could be useful. _Common Household Charms and Spells_.” Harry shows Severus the cover, which depicts a witch waving her wand while a mop, a broom, and a feather duster fly about the room cleaning. 

“Ah.” Severus cleans the dust off his finger. “Or we could demand the contractors return and clean as they agreed. Presumably that was part of their contract?” 

Harry nods. “It was. I’ll Floo when we get back to yours,” he says. “Hey, do you want to look through some of the furniture at Grimmauld? I know you said you wanted to start fresh, but—”

“That’s what I said, and that’s what I meant.” Severus snorts. “None of the furniture I inherited is fit for a new home, and I’d be concerned anything the Black family may have owned would be cursed.” 

Harry sighs. “You’re not wrong about that. Even though I had Bill Weasley go through the house thoroughly, I still get a bit of a creepy feeling when I’m there alone. Although…we are keeping the books, right?” 

“Oh yes. Books are different.” Severus exhales. “I’m surprised Ms Granger is letting you take them.” 

Harry grins. “Why do you think I’m asking? I told her there was no way you’d want to leave books behind, though. I promised her she could visit us on occasion if she really misses them or needs to do some research or something.” 

“As long as she provides adequate warning, I would not object.” Severus smirks, pulling Harry close. “After all, we don’t want her walking in on us at a…private moment, do we?” 

Winding his arms around Severus’ neck, Harry laughs. “I’ve done it to them enough times, but no, we definitely don’t.” He nuzzles Severus’ neck. “Do you think we’ll be doing a lot of embarrassing activities here in the living room?” 

Severus scrapes his teeth along the column of Harry’s neck, smirking when Harry shivers in response. “Indubitably.” 

“We could start now,” Harry breathes. “Christen this room properly—”

“Too dusty,” murmurs Severus. “But your idea has merit. Perhaps once it’s cleaned.” 

“I…” Harry moans as Severus slips his hand under his shirt. “I’ll call when we…mm…get back to…fuck…a working Floo.”

“Well,” says Severus, “perhaps not the _very_ moment we get back.”

Harry’s still laughing as Severus Apparates them directly to his bed and then, while there is some laughing, there’s very little talking.

* * *

Revelling in the silence, Severus strolls around his new laboratory, inspecting his new work benches, cauldrons, and shelves. He trails his hands over everything, humming as he goes. It’s his, all his, built to his exacting specifications, laid out the way he wants. Not Hogwarts’ governors, not Horace, not St Mungo’s, not Voldemort, not Albus. This is his alone.

“Severus?” 

Severus winces as he’s pulled back to the present. “In here.” 

When Harry appears, Severus is seated at his desk, poring over a book and pretending to take notes. When Harry comes up behind him, slides his arms around Severus’ neck, and kisses the top of his head, Severus leans back, eyes closed. “It’s going to be difficult to get any work done if you persist in doing that,” he murmurs. 

Harry’s hands slide to Severus’ shoulders and he begins a firm massage. “What about this?” he asks. 

Severus sighs. “Also not conducive to brewing.” 

“Yeah?” Harry presses his thumbs rhythmically into the nape of Severus’ neck and it feels so good, Severus moans. “Doesn’t sound like you mind that much.” 

“You and your bewitching hands need to go,” Severus says. “Before I forget all the potion orders for the day.” 

Laughing softly, Harry kisses Severus’ neck before backing away. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be distracting. It’s just weird having you only a few rooms away. Brilliant, but weird.” 

“Why weird?” Severus turns in his chair to look at him.

Harry shrugs, his face turning pink. “I’m used to saving things up to tell you, but now that we’re in our new home, and both working from home, I have access to you all the time and it’s…”

“Different.” 

“Yeah. And tempting. And distracting.” Harry licks his lips. “It means we could shag for lunch. Or I could blow you for tea. Or—”

“Yes, I get the idea.” Severus clears his throat, fighting the mental images Harry’s words evoke. “We should agree to some house rules, however, now that we’ll be together all the time.” 

Harry nods. “Yeah, we probably should.” He bites his lower lip. “Maybe later, though? Or tomorrow?”

“Why tomorrow?” Severus raises an eyebrow. “Why not now?” 

Harry grins. “Because I’m horny now, and you’re only pretending to read that book.” 

Eyebrow raised, Severus asks, “And why would you say that?”

“You were holding the book upside down, and there’s no ink in your well or notes on your parchment.” 

Huffing, Severus pushes back from the desk and stands. “You have become far too observant.” 

“That’s what happens when you hang about with a genius. Some of that’s bound to rub off. And speaking of rubbing off…” Harry waggles his eyebrows, a hopeful grin on his face.

“You are insatiable.” 

“Does that mean we’re shagging now?” 

Reaching for him, Severus hauls him close. “So it seems.” 

“Brilliant!”

* * *

After a few days, they settle into a routine. Unfortunately, the routine is not one conducive to Severus getting much work done. 

If Harry isn’t prancing about half clothed and distracting Severus, he’s singing Weird Sisters songs, or making Severus sandwiches, or simply _being there_.

“Oh, I’m sure Harry will settle down eventually,” says Minerva at their next tea, once Severus has told her his frustrations. “He’ll grow out of it.” She smirks. “Although I can think of worse problems than having an eager, young lover at one’s beck and call.”

Severus sighs. “I knew I should never have told you about that.” 

Minerva laughs. “We’re friends, Severus, and friends share. I’m glad you told me.” She sobers. “Anyway, the first few weeks of joining households are always a bit of an adjustment period for people. Things will settle eventually.” 

But after another month of the same, Severus fears the adjustment period may never end. After repeated requests, he does manage to get Harry to give him enough alone time to brew during the day, but Severus is accustomed to quietly reading in the evenings, and Harry’s constant presence and need to talk about his day simply doesn’t allow that. 

Plus, Harry is a social being. He can’t go more than a few days without seeing his friends, and so, Severus gets accustomed to emerging from his laboratory to find Weasleys of various persuasions, Granger, or even Lovegood in his home, and, in the case of the latter two, often browsing his library. 

Severus is sure Harry tells them things about him, too, because he’s always intercepting amused, impressed, and, in the case of Lovegood, speculative looks from them, especially the women.

“I feel as though they’re always staring at me,” Severus complains one evening as he and Harry sit and talk after dinner. “Judging me. It’s…uncomfortable.” 

“They’re not judging you.” Harry smiles. “Well, not _only_ you.”

Severus raises an eyebrow. 

Harry sniggers. “Okay, so you have to admit, you can’t blame them for being curious. You’re Severus Snape, Potions master extraordinaire.” 

“Indeed.” Severus frowns. “What are they curious about?”

“Us.” Harry grins. “I may have boasted a time or two about your…prowess. Nothing too graphic!” he hastens to add when Severus’ mouth drops open. “Just…some little details.” 

“Little details,” Severus repeats. 

“All right, little details about _big_ details.” Harry winks. “If you know what I mean.” 

Dropping his face in his hands, Severus groans. “Harry, please tell me you have not been discussing the size of my genitals with your friends!” 

“Er…do you want me to lie?” 

“Harry!” 

“Severus.” Harry clasps his hand and leans forward, face earnest. “People have the wrong impression about you. They think you’re boring, humourless, intimidating, which I suppose you are that last one…Anyway, they think us being together is weird because you’re either too old or too—”

“Death Eatery?” Severus says, tone dry. 

Harry shrugs. “Or they think I’m not mature enough for you. But I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I do want my friends to like you and to realise you’re good for me, however.” 

“You still haven’t explained why this necessitates you telling them intimate details about my private parts,” Severus mutters. 

“It’s not just that,” says Harry, clearly struggling to express himself. “I tell them little things that humanise you. That you love raspberry jam, that you hum in the shower, that you have sexy feet, nothing too intimate—”

Severus blinks. “You think I have sexy feet?” 

Harry smirks. “You couldn’t tell? Why do you think I’m always jumping you when you walk about barefoot?” 

“I hadn’t noticed the correlation, actually, since you _jump me_ whenever possible,” Severus retorts.

Slowly, Harry smiles. “Problem?”

Severus exhales. “Not the point, Harry.”

“I know.” Harry sobers. “Thing is, I just want people to know the real you. To see you the way I do.” 

“By telling them the size of my penis?” 

Harry coughs. “That was just _one_ time, and it was Ron’s fault. He was going on about how he didn’t believe the business about noses and hands and feet as relates to size—”

Severus holds up a hand. “So Mr Weasley is the one who’s been telling people about my…size?”

“Maybe.” Harry swallows hard. “I let it slip to Ron because he was going on about how Weasleys are always well endowed, but Hermione was there, too, so—” 

“Ah. So you’re saying it’s Ms Granger’s fault?” 

Harry sighs. “No, it’s my fault. But at least now they now know why I’m with you.” 

Severus smirks. “Because I have a big cock?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Because you’re brilliant, and caring, and amazing, and, yes, ridiculously sexy.” Lifting Severus’ hand to his lips, Harry kisses the tips of his fingers and whispers, “And because I love you.” 

And just like that, Severus’ irritation disappears. He cups Harry’s face, running his thumb over his bottom lip. “The feeling is mutual.” 

Harry’s smile lights up the room. “How about we go to bed and celebrate your…big details?” 

Glancing at the book he’s picked out to read that evening, Severus smirks. Books can wait. Clearly, Harry cannot. “I could be persuaded.”

* * *

It takes some discussion, some negotiation, but finally, they settle into a sort of routine. Still, Harry is prone to bursting into his laboratory at random moments, so Severus is careful with his experiments, and about putting up shields when necessary. 

In turn, Harry has his moments where he, too, cannot be disturbed. Severus would not have thought a custom broom business could require such concentration, but after watching Harry create one of his hand-carved, specially charmed, custom racing brooms, he is impressed at the sheer amount of magic required, and makes sure to proceed with care around Harry’s warded workshop. 

They have lunch together every day, and while Severus grumbles about being interrupted, in truth it’s nice to take a break and to listen to Harry’s animated chatter over a simple meal. 

Of course, it’s when Draco comes to Severus for help that there’s trouble. 

“Why not ask your own Healer for a potion?” Severus asks, eyeing him. He hasn’t seen Draco since his wedding to Astoria Greengrass a few years previously. The intervening years have not been kind. Or perhaps it’s just worry that’s given him premature lines on his face and a receding hairline.

Draco, expression desperate and miserable, sighs. “I can’t have it get out that there may be a problem with the Malfoy heir.”

Severus raises an eyebrow. “There _is_ no Malfoy heir.” 

“Which is the problem.” Draco huffs. “Mother…Mother thinks it’s something about the house. Perhaps left over from the Dark Lord’s time there.” His lips twist in a bitter smile. “A parting gift.” 

“That does seem like something the Dark Lord would have done,” Severus sighs. “Although, if that’s the case, you require a Curse-Breaker, not a Potions master.” 

“We’ve already had Curse-Breakers in, several of them. And consulted at least a dozen Healers.” Draco exhaled. “Please, Severus. If this doesn’t work, then—”

“Then what?” asks Severus gently. 

Draco closes his eyes, his shoulders slumping. “Then Mother wants me to annul the marriage and try again with some other witch. Our contract states Astoria has to present me with a child within our first five years of marriage, which is approaching soon. But—” 

“But?”

“I love her, Severus. She’s the other half of my soul! I have no intentions of annulling our marriage, no matter what Mother says.” Draco stares at Severus, his expression pleading. “Please help us.” 

Severus nods. “I shall do my best. Have Astoria come and see me tomorrow. But, Draco, there is no guarantee. There may not be anything I can do—”

“I know. But I also know that if _you_ can’t find a solution, no one can. And if that’s the case—” Exhaling, Draco smiles. “If it’s the case, we’ll find a way to manage. Thank you, Severus.”

Once he’s left, Severus goes to the library, collecting the reference books he’ll need. He spends all afternoon researching, jotting notes, even missing tea. When he emerges that evening, Harry is waiting. 

“New project?” 

Severus inclines his head. “You could say that.” He sniffs. “Beef stew?” Then, he recalls it’s his turn to cook. “Salazar! My apologies, I forgot—”

“It’s fine. I figured you got caught up in a new project, so I threw dinner together.” Harry smiles, drawing him towards the table. “And, as it’s a cold night, stew seemed appropriate.” 

“No arguments from me,” says Severus, sitting down at the table. There’s stew, fresh rolls, even an open bottle of red wine. “This looks like it took effort. Much more than simply throwing something together. Again, I’m sor—”

“It’s fine,” Harry assures him. Grinning, he picks up his spoon to tuck in. “It happens to me, too, you know.” Blowing on his spoonful of stew, he takes a tentative bite. “Hot.” 

“As it should be.” Severus starts to eat. “It’s good. You added some unusual spices.” 

“Cinnamon.” Harry takes a sip of red wine. “Mrs Weasley’s suggestion.” 

They eat in companionable silence, and when they’re done, Severus clears the dishes, making Harry sit and relax. 

“Do you have room for apple crumble?” 

“Perhaps after a few minutes.” Severus draws Harry from the kitchen. “I thought we could take a walk first.” 

“Sure!”

The air is crisp and cold, and as they walk through the village arm in arm, Severus’ mind clears. 

“This must be some new project,” says Harry as they near home again. 

Severus frowns. “Why do you say that?”

“Usually you tell me all about any new projects, but you’re being pretty quiet tonight.” 

Exhaling, Severus says, “It’s something for Draco.” 

Beside him, Harry stiffens. “Malfoy?”

“Do you know any other Dracos?” Severus quips.

“No, thank Godric,” mutters Harry. 

Severus raises an eyebrow. “I thought the two of you had resolved your differences?” 

Raising his hand, Harry disables the wards and they walk back into their cottage. “I’d say we’re cordial distant acquaintances,” Harry finally replies. “We don’t run into each other much.” He shrugs. “Of course, since I started Century Custom Brooms, I’ve had little contact with anyone except my close friends and you.” 

“Ah.” Severus hangs up his and Harry’s cloaks. “Have you considered setting up a shop in Diagon? That would allow you to see more people.” 

“Trying to get me out of the house?” Harry asks, smiling, but his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Severus snorts. “Certainly not.” Drawing Harry close, he kisses him. Harry relaxes in his arms. “Having you close is…most enjoyable. You’re simply more social than I am. So if you do want to set up a shop—” 

Laughing, Harry winds his arms around Severus’ neck. “Not a chance. I’m staying right here with you.” Rolling his hips against Severus’, Harry whispers, “And speaking of socialising—”

“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” Severus says, steering Harry towards their bedroom. 

“I don’t care what we call it as long as we keep doing it,” Harry replies, shoving Severus onto the bed and climbing on top of him. 

They end up eating apple crumble for breakfast.

* * *

“You still haven’t told me what this special project you’re working on for Malfoy is about,” Harry says the following evening. 

Severus, scooping shepherd’s pie into his mouth, pauses. “I’m not sure I should reveal a client’s private information,” he finally says. “Draco’s embarrassed enough about having to come to me as it is.” 

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Well, it’s not as if I’m going to tell anyone.” He shrugs. “But fine, if you can’t, you can’t.” His eyes narrow. “Is he impotent or something?” 

“Harry!” 

Harry grins. “Sorry. Fine, I’m shutting up. Although, you don’t have to come right out and tell me, I can guess and you can tap once if my guess is wrong, twice if I’m right—”

Severus rolls his eyes. “It’s in relation to his wife’s fertility. Now, that’s all I’m saying, so leave it, all right?” 

Harry looks contrite. “I’m sorry. And yeah, I’ll leave it. I shouldn’t pry. I was just curious.” He coughs. “Maybe he should have you make him some hair replenishing potion, too, though—”

“Harry!” 

Harry doesn’t bring it up again, and when he runs into Astoria leaving Severus’ potions laboratory one day, he’s pleasant to her. 

When Draco shows up irate one afternoon, it catches Severus by surprise. Bursting into the laboratory, he slams a copy of the _Prophet_ onto one of Severus’ work tables and cries, “How could you?” 

Severus, stirring a potion, loses count. “Damnit, Draco! You just made me ruin this entire batch!” Banishing the now useless potion, Severus turns to him. “And what are you upset about?” 

“This!” Pointing to the newspaper, Draco shouts, “It’s all over the front page!” 

“What is?” Frowning, Severus picks it up to read. 

_Is Malfoy Heir Impotent? Or Is the Greengrass line to Blame for Their Lack of Fertility? Can Severus Snape, Famed Potions Master, Solve Their Dilemma?_

“Salazar on a stick,” breathes Severus. “How—?”

“You’re the only one who knows, Severus!” Draco’s face is red, his eyes blazing with rage. “We didn’t even tell Mother or Astoria’s parents! How could you do this to me?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Draco!” Severus snaps. “I haven’t told anyone.” 

Searching his eyes, Draco finally nods. Shoulders sagging, he shakes his head. “Then how did they find out? You’re sure you told no one?” 

“I’m positive—” Severus pauses. “Merlin.” 

“What?” Draco snaps, eyes narrowed. “You told someone, didn’t you?” 

Severus shakes his head. “He couldn’t have. He _wouldn’t_ have.” 

“Who?” asks Draco, tone cold. “Circe and Morgana, it was Potter, wasn’t it? I’ll kill him!” 

“Enough! I’ll talk to him.” Severus shoves the paper at Draco. “Go home.” He pauses. “How is Astoria?” 

“How do you think?” 

Severus rolls his eyes. “I mean, is she taking the potion?” 

“Yes.” 

“And?”

Draco shrugs. “No side effects yet. We’re waiting to see if she—” He waves his hand. “You know.” 

“Floo when you know anything,” Severus says, moving past him towards the door. “Now go home!”

* * *

Harry’s wards are up, of course, so Severus paces and waits for him to emerge. When it’s late afternoon, frustrated, Severus channels his energies into making dinner, so that when Harry emerges, there are chicken pot pies, beans and even a chocolate cake all ready and cooling on the counter. 

“Wow,” says Harry. “This all smells and looks incredible. What’s the occasion?” 

“I was waiting for you and needed something to occupy my hands,” says Severus. He gestures toward the sofa. “Sit, please. We need to talk.” 

Harry’s smile fades. “That sounds ominous. Is something wrong? What’s happened?” 

“That’s what I’m trying to ascertain.” Sitting down beside Harry, Severus clasps his hand. “Draco came to see me today. He was…quite upset.” 

Harry frowns. “About what? And what does it have to do with me?” 

“Hopefully nothing.” Severus stares into Harry’s eyes. “The article talked about the difficulty Draco and Astoria are having getting pregnant and said that I was trying to make them a fertility potion.” 

“Okay.” Harry shrugs. “That’s all true, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, but Draco asked me to keep his confidence, to tell no one.” Severus’ fingers tighten on Harry’s. “The only person I’ve told is you.” 

Harry blinks. “Wait, and you think I told other people?” 

“Did you?” 

“No!” Harry’s eyes narrow. “Are you using Legilimency on me?” 

“I’m not,” Severus assures him, but Harry has already pulled his hand away. He sighs. “You’re _sure_ you haven’t told anyone else? Let it slip into a conversation by accident, perhaps?” 

“I’m positive!” Harry huffs. “I would never. How could you think that?” 

Severus raises an eyebrow. “Well you do have a tendency to tell your friends personal information at times—”

“About me! Not someone else!” 

Severus clears his throat. “Well, you’ve also told them about the size of my—”

“That was just one time!” Shaking his head, Harry stands. “I can’t believe you think I’d do that.” 

“I didn’t think you’d do it _deliberately_ ,” says Severus, also standing. “But you have to admit, you are prone to let things slip to your friends. And any one of them could have—”

“No.” Harry backs away, shaking his head. “They would never.” 

Severus exhales. “Very well. Then I have no idea how this information could have ended up in the papers. If I haven’t told anyone but you, and you haven’t told anyone—”

“Malfoy probably told one of his loudmouthed friends and they tattled,” Harry mutters. “Do Slytherins even have friends? Honestly, it could have been any one of them. I bet it was Parkinson. She’s always been a piece of work—”

Severus freezes. “I’ll have you know Slytherins form deep and abiding friendships, actually. We are often more loyal than Hufflepuffs. After all, we frequently have to trust each other with our lives.” 

Harry blinks, extending his hand towards Severus. “Oh, I didn’t mean _you_ , Severus—”

Severus holds up a hand and moves away, avoiding Harry’s touch. The hurt look that crosses Harry’s face sends a stab of pain through his chest. 

“I didn’t do this, Severus,” Harry says quietly. “It didn’t slip to anyone, I haven’t said a word about it. Do you believe me?”

“I believe you believe that.” 

“If I’d let it slip I’d admit it. I swear, it wasn’t me. I give you my word. Believe me.” 

Severus sighs. “If you insist. Although we all forget things sometimes. It’s possible you inadvertently—”

“You _don’t_ believe me.” Harry exhales. “After all this time, you don’t trust me, trust my word.” 

“I do trust you! And I also trust that whatever may have happened, you did not intentionally mean to hurt Draco.” 

“ _Draco_?” Harry’s tone is mocking. “I don’t give two shits about Draco! But _you’re_ the one who confided in me, trusted me with that information, so I’m saying it one last time, Severus. This was not me!” His eyes narrow. “Or am I not as worthy of your trust as a Slytherin?”

“You’re worthy of my trust because you’re my life partner!” Severus snaps. “It has nothing to do with House affiliation! Although, it may be hard for you to understand what it’s like to be vilified for years and years—”

“Is it worse than having someone try to murder you every year?” Harry asks softly, his voice dark with pain. “Is it worse than having no one believe you when it doesn’t suit their world view? Is it worse than having _Dementors_ sent against you to suck out your soul? Is it worse than being hunted as Undesirable Number One, with your face plastered everywhere?! Is it worse than dying?!” Harry’s shouting, his face red, eyes flashing. 

“Harry!” Severus shouts back. “We’ve all had bad things happen. You, me, Draco—”

“Draco? Always with precious Draco!” Harry shakes his head. “I’m lucky he’s not gay, or you’d be with him.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Severus shouts. “Is this why you’re upset? You’re jealous of Draco?” 

Harry shrugs. “It doesn’t seem to matter if I am or I’m not since you’ve clearly decided to believe his word over mine! Sounds like love to me.”

“Oh for—” Severus rolls his eyes. “While I do care for Draco, it’s like a son. There’s nothing amorous between us!” 

Harry nods. “I believe you.” He smiles, but his eyes remain hard. “Pity you can’t give me the same consideration.” 

“That’s not true! You denied it and I believe you.” 

“One hundred percent?” Harry asks. “Or is there some small doubt in in your mind that I could still be guilty?” 

Severus hesitates, and Harry’s face closes. “Harry, can anyone ever say anything is one hundred percent?”

“And there’s my answer.” Shaking his head, Harry turns away.

“Harry, don’t—” Severus sucks in a breath and slowly exhales. “Perhaps we should eat and allow things to settle,” he says stiffly. “Before either of us says anything more…damaging.” 

Slowly, Harry nods. “All right,” he says, tone flat. “Whatever you say.” He starts for the hallway. “Excuse me, I should wash up before dinner.” 

Dinner’s uncomfortable, and when they finally go to bed, they don’t kiss and cuddle as usual. Harry simply turns away and is asleep within minutes. Severus stares at the ceiling for a long time.

* * *

Things remain tense the next day. Harry gets up earlier than usual, and is warded and in his workshop before Severus even stirs. 

Severus Floo calls Draco several times to no avail. His concentration is ruined, so much so that he’s unable to prepare even the most basic potion bases, having to scrap a couple of batches. 

Harry doesn’t emerge for lunch as he usually does, so Severus eats a lonely sandwich in the kitchen, eyeing Harry’s workshop for any signs of life. It’s quiet, too quiet, and Severus wonders when he got addicted to the sound of Harry’s voice.

Finally, in the early afternoon, Draco strides into his laboratory, his expression jubilant. “Severus! You lovely man!” he cries, grabbing Severus and hugging him. “It worked! She’s pregnant!” 

Severus exhales. “Excellent.” He raises an eyebrow. “Now, if you would unhand me—”

Draco grins and lets him go. “Sorry. I forgot how you are about personal space.” 

Severus snorts. “I have no problem with people I _choose_ being in my personal space.” 

“Right. And speaking of Potter,” Draco drawls, “how is he?” 

Severus frowns as his problems comes crashing back down on him. “He’s fine,” he snaps, and Draco’s eyebrow shoots up. “Have you made any more inquiries about the newspaper article? Harry assured me it wasn’t he who let the Kneazle out of the bag. Do you know anything more about what may have happened?” 

Draco flushes. “Oh, right.” He waves a hand. “I’m over that, it’s nothing—”

Severus stares at him. “You know something.” 

Draco clears his throat. “So, this is funny.” He smiles weakly. “Turns out it was Daphne all long, can you believe that? Astoria told her sister, who’s dating Theo Nott, and Nott works at the _Prophet_ , so—”

“So it had nothing to do with Harry at all,” Severus says, tone soft, menacing. 

Draco’s eyes widen and he backs up a bit. “Exactly. Sorry about all that.” He laughs nervously. “Well, would you look at the time! I should be going; Astoria and I are planning to tell Mother this evening.” 

“ _Draco_ —” Severus growls, but he’s gone. “Fuck,” he sighs. 

When Harry hasn’t emerged by eight that evening, Severus knocks on the door to his workshop, but Harry doesn’t reply, and the wards don’t admit him. By eleven he realises Harry plans to stay in there all night. 

Dejected, he goes to bed, but it’s cold, and even exchanging his pillow for Harry’s so he can smell him doesn’t help Severus sleep. He spends another restless night tossing and turning, and by morning is bleary-eyed and exhausted. 

By the time Minerva arrives for tea, Severus is in a foul mood. “Oh, right,” he grits out upon opening the door to see her standing there. He turns away. “I forgot we had tea scheduled today.” 

“Good afternoon to you, too.” Minerva walks in, hanging up her cloak. “Is this a bad time?” she asks. “We can always reschedule.” 

“It’s fine,” Severus snaps. “I can’t seem to get anything done anyway.” Huffing, he starts moving around the kitchen.

But as he slams open the cabinets to pull out the tea things, Minerva rests a hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down?” she says gently. “I’ll make the tea.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my guest—”

“I’ve been here often enough to know where everything is.” She points to the table. “Go. Sit. Now.” She uses her headmistress voice and he’s halfway towards the table before he remembers she’s not his professor. 

Scowling, Severus nevertheless obeys, sitting meekly as she gathers the tea and finds the biscuits in the pantry. Within a few minutes they each have steaming cups of tea. 

Eyes narrowed, Minerva regards him for a moment before reaching into her robes and pulling out a flask. “For emergencies,” she says, reaching across to pour something into his tea. “This definitely qualifies.” 

He recognises the scent of single malt Scotch and he smiles briefly, taking a sip. 

“Now,” says Minerva. “Tell me what’s happened.” 

Severus sniffs. “Nothing has—”

“Don’t.” Minerva spears him with a look. “Former spy or no, I can tell when you’re lying, Severus. I’m your friend. Tell me.” 

Haltingly, Severus tells her about Draco and Astoria, about the newspaper article, and about his fight with Harry, and by the end he’s holding out his cup for more Scotch. “I have no idea where to go from here,” he says, knocking it back. “Harry won’t talk to me, so—”

“Oh, Severus.” Minerva smiles, her eyes compassionate as she pours. “I’m so sorry this has happened. I suppose that’s it, then, isn’t it? Everything is over between the two of you?” 

Severus scowls. “Of course it isn’t. Why would you say that?” 

“I thought that was what you were saying.” Minerva raises an eyebrow. “After all, you tried to speak to him once and were unsuccessful, so that must be it.” She inclines her head. “Plus, Harry isn’t being very mature about this. Although he is young, and you knew that when you got involved with him. Perhaps if you had chosen someone a bit more mature—”

“What are you talking about?” Severus huffs, setting his cup down with a clatter. “Harry matured remarkably quickly, he had to, given his nonexistent childhood!” 

Minerva shrugs. “I suppose you’re right. So, what is your plan now? Are you back on the market? I have a cousin in Derby—”

“What on earth are you taking about—?” Severus snorts. “Ah, I see what you’re doing. You’re making me defend him, remember why I’m with him.” He rolls his eyes. “Trust me, I haven’t forgotten. But short of breaking down the door to his workshop I don’t see how to resolve this.”

“What would Harry do?” Minerva asks, taking a shortbread. “Would he let a door keep him from you if he really wanted to talk to you?”

Severus snorts. “He wouldn’t let a rampaging dragon keep him from something he wanted…” He trails off. 

Minerva smiles. “I’m a dab hand at ward dismantling. Although I daresay it’ll be more effective if you do it on your own.” She winks. “Also, the messier the better.” 

Slowly, Severus smirks. “Messy? Oh, I can do messy.”

* * *

Once Minerva is gone, Severus cleans up the tea things. Making sure his potions are all under stasis, he stands before Harry’s workshop door and knocks. “We need to talk, Harry,” he says. “Hiding in there is achieving nothing.” 

There’s no answer, but Severus gets the impression Harry’s listening. 

Severus sighs. “Very well, but you should step away from the door. And if you’re using any powerful magic, now would be the time to stop.” And cracking his knuckles, he draws his wand and focusses. 

The wards resist him, but he’s not a Dark Arts aficionado for nothing. They crumble after only moments of concentration. “ _Bombarda maxima_!” he cries, and the door bursts inwards, shattering into splinters. 

Inside, Harry’s standing beside a table with three new racing brooms fully completed. Scattered around are remnants of half-eaten sandwiches and bags of crisps. “Severus?” he gasps, eyes wide. 

Holstering his wand, Severus takes four long strides towards him, sweeping him into his arms. “You were right and I was wrong. It turns out Astoria’s sister is the one who inadvertently leaked the news to the press. I am so sorry I doubted you even a little,” he whispers into Harry’s hair. “Please forgive me.” 

Harry’s arms wrap around him, his body relaxing against Severus’. “Of course,” he murmurs. “And I’m sorry I locked myself up in here to pout.” He laughs ruefully. “Not very mature, I know, but—”

Severus snorts. “I can’t claim to be any more mature,” he says. “I sulked in my laboratory all day yesterday.” 

“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” 

“Indeed.” Severus kisses Harry’s neck, smiling when Harry sighs. “Sleeping without you has been especially difficult.” 

“What sleep?” Harry grumbles. “How do you think I got three brooms done in a single day?”

Drawing back, Severus stares into Harry eyes. “Then you need rest,” he says. He sighs. “I could do with a nap myself.” 

“Oh no,” says Harry. Leaning in, he places a kiss to the corner of Severus’ mouth. “We’ve much more important things to do first.” 

“And what’s that?” asks Severus. 

“Make up sex,” growls Harry, kissing him again. The kiss is feral, desperate, and it makes Severus’ fatigue disappear immediately. Energy surging through him, he moans into Harry’s mouth, and when Harry drags him to the floor and wraps his legs around Severus’ waist, Severus goes with it. 

Severus has missed the touch of Harry’s skin, the way he responds to Severus’ caresses, Harry’s scent surrounding him as they make love. Ripping at Harry’s clothes, Severus finally makes it to naked skin, and burying his face in the curve of Harry’s neck, he breathes him in.

“ _Harry_ ,” he gasps. There are more words trembling on the tip Severus’ tongue like, “sorry,” and, “love you,” and, “please,” but Harry seems to hear and understand them without Severus saying them aloud. 

“I know,” he whispers, kissing Severus’ eyelids. “Me, too.” He tugs at Severus’ robes. “Too many clothes.” 

The next few seconds are a blur as he and Harry divest themselves of robes, shirts, trousers, pants. Severus’ shoes both go flying, each in a different direction, but he doesn’t care. Them being naked and skin to skin is all that matters. 

Normally, Severus takes his time preparing Harry. Rather than relying on spells, they both love the gradual build up to lovemaking, the fingering, the slow, careful stretching with Severus’ own homemade lubricant until Harry’s writhing, begging to take Severus’ cock. But Severus is far too desperate for all that now, and the way Harry’s clutching his shoulders, bucking up beneath him, it appears he agrees. 

“ _Lubricus_ ,” Severus whispers. “ _Distendo._ ”

Harry moans, shifting and spreading his legs, and when Severus lifts them over his shoulders and positions himself at Harry’s entrance, their eyes lock. 

Harry’s eyes are blazing with lust and love and longing, and Severus knows his own reflect those emotions back to him. He presses his cock deeper, and Harry urges him on with urgent, whispered words. 

Normally he lets Harry adjust before beginning the slow, riding strokes they both love, the steady thrusting that often takes Harry apart, but this time he can’t wait. Thrusting deep, he slams into Harry over and over again, all finesse gone in his desperation to take, to have, to claim. “Mine,” he growls. 

“Yours,” Harry agrees, pressing up to meet his every push. Even bent in half, Harry’s a sight to behold. 

“Gorgeous,” Severus whispers.

“ _Severus_ ,” Harry cries. “Please!”

Severus, head swimming with pleasure, pushes in faster, his rhythm soon faltering as sensation overcomes his body. He begins to come, his orgasm flowing over him in a wave even as he grinds his hips against Harry’s and comes spilling inside him. 

Harry moans, moving his hand between his legs to fist his own cock. Severus has just enough energy to lean down and kiss him, and as he does so, Harry shouts, his body shuddering as he comes spurting, his warm ejaculate hitting Severus’ chest. 

Severus slides out of Harry, falling onto his back as his chest heaves. Now that the thrill of being near Harry, inside Harry, has faded, his back is aching and the floor is cold. 

Beside him, Harry rolls closer, resting his head on Severus’ chest. “Ow.” 

“You’re telling me?” Severus mutters. “I may need help standing up. I’m far too old for fucking on the floor. My back may never recover.” 

Laughing softly, Harry says, “ _Your_ back? I think I was lying on door splinters the entire time.” 

“No more fighting,” Severus vows, sliding his arms around Harry. “My poor body can’t stand the strain.” 

“Either that or we make sure the make up sex is in a bed next time.” 

“Next time?” Severus growls.

“Well, it is _us_ ,” Harry points out. 

“Point.” Severus closes his eyes. “Have you ever considered carpeting this room?” 

Harry’s soft laughter is a balm for his soul.

* * *

“You look better, Severus. All is well with you and Harry, I take it?” says Minerva when she Floo calls to check on Severus the following morning. 

Inclining his head, Severus cannot resist a smug smirk. “We have settled our differences and are…content, yes.” 

“Clearly.” Minerva smirks. “You certainly look…satisfied.” Her eyes narrow. “Although, from those bags under your eyes, may I recommend you get some actual rest tonight?”

Severus widens his smirk. “I’m sure I’ll manage some soon, although it may not be tonight. As I’ve told you before, Harry can be…enthusiastic, and we are enjoying a bit of a second honeymoon at the moment.” 

Laughing aloud, Minerva shakes her head. “And as I’ve told _you_ , enjoy this time. Even youthful enthusiasm fades eventually.” 

“Indeed.” Severus sobers. “Was there something else you needed?”

“Do I need another reason to Floo an old friend about whom I’m concerned?” Minerva asks. 

Severus snorts. “Since you could easily have sent an owl, yes,” he says, tone dry.

“I see retiring from teaching hasn’t dulled your mind one whit.” Minerva sighs. “I’m in a bind, Severus. Our current Potions professor had a family emergency, and while we have someone to cover her classes, Poppy’s potion stores are running low—”

Severus nods. “Have her send me a list of what she requires and I shall restock her supplies.” 

“Excellent.” Minerva smiles. “Thank you. And of course, we’ll be happy to pay your going rate.” 

Severus raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s in the budget?” 

“It won’t be coming out of my budget,” says Minerva, tone smug. “The board says they will cover it.” 

“I’m surprised they’re being that…generous.” 

“As the missing Potions professor is related to one of the board members, and was heavily supported by that member, it seems they feel responsible for this.” Minerva smirked. “I’m certainly not arguing with that decision.” 

“I see. Well, in that case,” Severus murmurs, his mind racing, “I’ll be sure to send you an updated price list. As soon as I compose one.” 

Minerva laughs. “I’m sure you will. Now I’ll let you go. Expect Poppy’s list later today. She should be all right for the rest of the week, although some potions are rather critical.”

“I imagine I should be able to begin brewing later.” Severus smirks. “Harry and I are probably finished…reconciling. At least for today.”

Minerva shakes her head. “Lovely. And since I’ll see you next month for tea, you can tell me all the details then. Don’t let him tire you out too much! And do give him my best.” 

“Of course,” Severus says. Once he’s closed the Floo, he stands, turns, and freezes. 

Harry, standing there, is grinning from ear to ear. “Aha! So it’s not just me. You do it, too!” 

Severus raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” 

Walking up to him, Harry pokes Severus’ chest with his index finger. “You tell your friends intimate details about our relationship, too!” 

Severus snorts. “I most certainly do not.” 

“Oh, I think you do. I just heard McGonagall teasing you about ‘youthful enthusiasm’, and telling you to get some rest because you look shagged out.” Harry’s eyes dance with glee. 

“I—” Severus sighs. “Very well, I suppose I do tell her some small details about our life together—Oof! Harry?”

Harry, who’s practically tackled Severus to the ground, peppers his face with kisses. Severus cups his face with his palm, kissing him back, slowing things down, smoothing his other hand over Harry’s back. Once things are calmer, he pulls back. “What was that for?” he asks, tucking a stray lock of hair behind Harry’s ear. 

“You tell people about me, you boast about me.” Harry’s eyes are glowing. “Which means you’re proud to be with me.” 

Severus blinks. “Of course I am. How could you doubt that?” 

Harry presses another kiss on Severus’ mouth. “You can be a difficult man to read at times.” 

“Nonsense,” Severus murmurs, patting Harry’s arse. “I’m an open book.” 

“You—” Laughing, Harry rolls his eyes. “You are _so_ not.” His face sobers as he stares intently into Severus’ eyes. “But I’m getting there.” 

“Indeed you are,” agrees Severus softly. “Shall we go back to bed, see if we can both learn even more about each other?” 

“Sounds brilliant to me.” Harry grins. He’s about to say something else, but a tap on the window makes them both pause and look. 

“That must be Poppy’s owl,” Severus says, releasing Harry and walking towards the window. Retrieving the message, he reads it, placing it on the table. “Message received,” he tells the bird, reaching for an Owl Treat. 

Once it’s gone, he turns back to Harry. “Now, what were we doing? Oh yes. I believe sex was on offer.”

Laughing, Harry extends his hand to Severus. “Always.” He nods at the list. “Although, don’t you have potions to make?” 

“Later,” says Severus, clasping his hand and pulling Harry down the hallway towards their bedroom. “Much later.”

**Author's Note:**

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